


And They Want To Keep Him To Themselves

by greyscalemuse



Series: Sherlock Holmes Has Two Soldier Boyfriends [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Comeplay, Creative uses of a Henley shirt as a gag, Did I mention they're all jealous and gross trashcans?, Gay Bar, Have you ever tried to get paint out from underneath your fingernails?, Joltolock, M/M, Masturbation, Mild Humiliation, Multi, Obligatory abuse of Sherlock's praise kink, Polyamory, Public Sex, Sherlock is a needy bottom, Sherlock wears a Henley shirt and jeans, There's a bit of a plot here somewhere, They're all filthy, Threesome, everyone is jealous, lots of dirty talk, some light dom/sub elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 02:54:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7249168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyscalemuse/pseuds/greyscalemuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock asks for John and James to meet him at a gay bar and everyone gets jealous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And They Want To Keep Him To Themselves

**Author's Note:**

> Okay guys. Here you go. No Beta. No Britpicked. It's barely been proofread, but hey. It's here. It's done. And I hope you enjoy it!

The music was loud, thrumming noise when John entered the bar, but he remained unphased. His eyes combed through the crowd until they settled upon at least one of the men he was looking for leaning up against the bar, drink in hand. John smiled as he started to make a path towards the other – his smile turning into a smirk as his eyes raked across James’ form. It was nice to see James embrace his civilian physique in a tee shirt that was just fitted enough to show that he still had muscle definition, but still loose enough to remain forgiving. He looked. Fantastic.

“Bit early in the evening for a drink, don’t you think?” John quipped as he took a seat. James looked at his drink and shrugged before taking another sip.

“Maybe. But it’s hard to turn down a free drink when it’s offered,” James supplied with a smirk too match as he leaned against the bar on his elbows, shooting a side glance to John and counting down to the moment the eyebrow started to twitch.

“I’m sorry?”

James just smiled, leaned in and placed a kiss on John’s lips. “A gentleman bought me a drink before you got here. What was I suppose to do? Refuse?”

“Yes!” John insisted with a nod before James leaned in and pecked his lips again, “You’re supposed to say…” he closed his eyes as James lips moved to his ear, “Thank you for the offer, kind sir? Shut up…” John chided at James parroting back ‘kind sir’ in a dubious tone, “Thank you for the offer, but I have two boyfriends already and I certainly don’t need your sex tonight… quit that, I’m trying to be angry at you…” John sighed, head falling back as James sucked very lightly at his Adam’s Apple. James chuckled before he took a half step back, downing the rest of his drink and pressing his lips to John’s forehead.

“Look at you stamping your foot and being jealous,” He chuckled and kissed John again to silence his protests, “I know the kind of impression accepting a drink from a stranger gives, but to be honest, it was just nice to get the offer,” he set his glass down and settled back into his seat as John looked one with softer eyes.

“Oh James… you’re gorgeous.”

“To those that matter to me,” James remarked before he shifted the conversation elsewhere. “So? We were called here, I thought Sherlock would be with you.”

“No. We got separated at some point. You know how he is,” James hummed in understanding as John shrugged, “I honestly don’t know why we’re here. He was very vague in that text,” John pressed his lips together in a tight line before he sighed, “I’m assuming this has to do with the case but he said something about good news… so… let’s hope for the best?”

“Well. It’s nice to be out of that hotel room for a little bit. It was starting to make me feel claustrophobic.” James wrapped an arm around John’s middle in a loose circle, eying the interested men carefully. John noticed with a smile.

“Are you laying claim on me?”

“Is that wrong of me?”

John took James’ face in his hands, leaned up and planted a kiss on his lips before giving a short shake of his head, “No. Never…” he trailed off a bit when he heard one of the patrons nearby give out a low wolf whistle, looking around to see the some of the surrounding crowd train their eyes to the door. Both John and James turned their heads to find the source collecting this combined attention. They weren’t at all surprised, but their breaths still got caught in their chests, both exhaling a long “oh my god” at the long legged specimen fiddling with his phone and completely oblivious of the predatory looks shot his direction.

Sherlock was without his signature coat and sharply tailored suit, instead favoring dark wash jeans that hugged his hips and arse perfectly and pairing them with an inky blue Henley t-shirt with three-quarter sleeves and clung close to his body – the shirt bringing back the nostalgia of pressing the same man back against a brick wall in the middle of the desert and stuffing the hem into his mouth to keep him quiet. James’ fingers twitched where they rested on John’s hip while John hissed through his teeth just as Sherlock’s eyes flicked in their direction, bright and intense, the chilled blue almost glowing. “He shouldn’t leave the house looking like that,” John murmured, shifting a bit and narrowing his eyes as a few of the bolder men tried to intercept Sherlock’s path. He side stepped each of them and remained oblivious of their actual intentions.

“Sherlock, why are we here?” John tried to begin once Sherlock was close enough. He held up his finger until he was done texting. When he pocketed his phone, he looked at his two, highly on edge, soldiers with a note of perplexity.

“You both are on high alert,” he spun around once and frowned, “Why? Is there some kind of danger?”

John reached out and caught Sherlock’s belt loops with his two fingers, “Not if you stay close. Now what are we doing here?”

“Stay close?” Sherlock blinked with an owlish expression before his eyebrows knitted close together in a confused frown. His lips parted as he tried to deduce John’s behavior, his attention broken momentarily at the way James kept close to his other side, staring down any man who dared to let a look linger to long. “Are… are you warding off any potential suitors?”

“Suitors?” John’s eyebrows shot up, “Sherlock, what century are we even in?”

“But both James and yourself are displaying classic signs of possessive behavior…” Sherlock trailed off when both John and James took turns kissing him, cementing his place in between them. He flushed bright pink, pressing his forehead to James’ shoulder before he heard John’s voice in his ear.

“When you walk in a place like this… looking like that… people are going to stare.”

“Looking like what, exactly?” Sherlock ventured, biting his lip.

“Don’t play coy, Sherlock. You know exactly how you look,” with a parting kiss to the back of Sherlock’s neck, John took a half step back and crossed his arms, leaning back against the bar. “So why are we here?”

Sherlock’s lips twitched as he fought to keep a straight face, clearing his throat and fidgeting with his phone. “Two parts… really… first part… is for a case which…” he scanned the crowd and his eyes narrowed before he clapped his hands together, “… is being wrapped up nicely, on time, and as expected. Excuse me.”

Before either John or James could react, Sherlock had woven his way through the crowd on the dance floor with ease, many of the same men from before trying to intercept him, only to be skillfully sidestepped, brushed off, and declined – none of them garnering a second glance as Sherlock single mindedly closed in on his target.

John sucked in a sharp breath through his nose and James leaned in. “It’s fine. He said it was for a case, correct?”

“Yes, but you’ve never dealt with him on the field before. In the name of a case, Sherlock can get rather chummy rather quickly…” They both watched as Sherlock leaned in, the ghost of a shy smile on his lips – one that was too close to the one he shot at the two of them in Afghanistan. When the stranger smirked back and whispered something assumedly salacious into Sherlock’s ear, both John and James jolted to a rigid attention when Sherlock bit his lip and laughed. John’s hand trembled before he balled it into a fist and he aggressively cleared his throat. “I hate when he does it.” He heavily accentuated the ‘t’s with a hard click to his tongue and clenched his teeth when the stranger’s hand that had come to rest on the small of Sherlock’s back had slipped a little too far downward for either John or James’ liking. Both men surged forward a couple of steps before John reached out and grabbed James’ sleeve, shaking his head. “Nope. No. He’s working. We just have to remember that he’s working.”

John shot a glance to James to see the taller man’s jaw tighten and shoot a warning glance to another patron who seemed to be circling too close to John. The interested party retreated quickly before James turned his attention back to Sherlock, who was now being pulled very close to the stranger’s hips. “He certainly is working something.”

“James…” though John’s voice sounded strained, “Sometimes he has to put on a bit of charm in order to get where he needs to go…” He sucked in an angry breath when the stranger’s fingers hooked into Sherlock’s belt loops and ground himself closer. “I am going to fucking kill that guy.”

“As long as I can get a few good punches in before you do.”

They both loitered at the edge of the dance floor and seethed as they watched the exchange. The stranger whispered in Sherlock’s ear and nipped at his jaw while Sherlock made a show at relishing the attention. After the minutes dragged on, finally the stranger parted but not before slipping something into the back pocket of Sherlock’s jeans. Once he was gone, Sherlock’s demeanor changed as he drew himself up a bit taller turned on his heel and headed back to John and James, typing rapidly on his phone all the while.

Just as he reached them, he perked at a soft shy voice addressing James, who had been absentmindedly carrying on the conversation on auto pilot as John and he kept a watchful eye over Sherlock’s previous interaction. “You should be… thanked… for your service…” Sherlock’s mouth twitched in annoyance before he elbowed himself in between James and the slight man speaking to him.

“Your offer is unnecessary, he is already thanked on a regular basis, believe me.” Sherlock pushed his curls out of his face once he pocketed his phone and shooed away the other before John’s soft but dangerous tone caught his attention. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Sherlock. What was all of that about?” John made a vague gesture to where he had stood with the stranger and Sherlock, to his credit, pinked slightly.

“Wasn’t it obvious? Case. Simple… as that….” He found himself in the center again, two warm, strong bodies pressed up either side of him, John behind and James in front. He held up his hands in surrender and bit his bottom lip hard to keep from whimpering. It only half worked, a small high pitched breath still managing to slip past as John’s fingers gripped the curve to his hips, pulling at the fabric of the Henley to slip a hand underneath. John pressed his palm just above Sherlock’s navel and whispered in a harsh voice akin to shattered glass and gravel that hit Sherlock’s neck and made the hair at the back of it stand up.

“No. Not that simple. Why’d you show up here… looking like that… to chat up a complete stranger?”

“Suspect. He… was the suspect John. He wouldn’t talk to me if I didn’t lower his guard down a little bit and… flirting was the quickest manner to do that.” He gasped when his phone vibrated in his back pocket, pressed against him by John’s close proximity. “That’s probably Lestrade now… I should…” He choked on the rest of his words when James’ index finger hooked the underside of his chin. Sherlock unconsciously sucked at his bottom lip and close his eyes, his head falling to the side as James whispered in his other ear.

“So you got dressed up and flirted with an assumedly dangerous suspect all within John and my line of sight – what are you playing at Sherlock?”

“N.. Nothing!” Sherlock insisted, going weak when James reached back and grasped tightly at Sherlock’s curls. “My usual attire would be too suspicious at a place like this. I had to adjust accordingly…” his eyes snapped open when John’s fingers trailed down the light ghosting of hair that drew a path from just below his navel past the low waistline of his jeans.

“And you weren’t at all thinking about the last time you wore a shirt like this?” John inquired just as James freed his hand from Sherlock’s hair, sliding it along his neck, past his shoulder, and down. His knuckles rubbed at Sherlock’s nipple through the soft fabric before catching it between them once it hardened. Sherlock squirmed the entire time, chest beginning to heave as his breath quickened, the light brushing of pink across his cheeks darkening and spreading into an angry red as he flushed down to his collarbones.

“No…” he insisted and he slapped his own hand over his mouth to muffle his scream when John’s hand pressed against the growing bulge in his jeans.

James in response tsked and shook his head, “Oh… you are a horrible liar Sherlock.” Sherlock shook his head instantly, and all three of them paused, eyes darting at the few men who’d noticed their current display, perked with interest. James shot a look to John and in response John, pulled away, grabbing the back of Sherlock’s shirt.

“We aren’t going to make it back to the hotel like this. Come on.”

 

* * *

 

There was a bang as the door hit the wall of the bathroom stall and Sherlock was dragged inside. The door swung shut behind them as John kicked it closed and reached over Sherlock to latch it. Sherlock’s heart was pounding as he was pressed into the cool metal door, the whisper of consent exchanged as always before John asked in a gritty voice, “So, Sherlock. Do you want to be fucked like a lover or a slut?”

“What about James?” Sherlock inquired, trying to blink past the surge of arousal that spiked in his veins at John’s question.

“He’s watching the door now. He’ll get his turn with you. Now answer me, Sherlock,” John pitched his voice deeper and Sherlock bucked against the door as John repeated his words, “Lover or slut, Sherlock?”

“Slut,” Sherlock choked out, his finger tips slipping across the smooth, lightly graffitied surface of the stall door. He pressed his forehead against it and waited, listening to the sucking sound of John wetting his fingers. There was a pop as John pulled them out and Sherlock looked over his shoulder to see John smirking at him.

“Why am I not surprised?” John sighed before he nodded to Sherlock’s jeans. “Push those down.” Sherlock pushed himself up to stand, undoing his jeans and swallowing down the thick lump in his throat as John spoke again. “Why do you want to be fucked like a slut, Sherlock?”

“Because I am one,” Sherlock insisted before he suddenly turned around, eyes refocusing on John’s lightly flushed face. He fought the urge to flinch as his jeans were yanked down to his knees followed closely by his pants. There was a short pause as John and Sherlock exchanged looks, John cupping his cheek before Sherlock insisted in a breath that he was fine. John, in turn, gripped the back of Sherlock’s neck and brought him in for a quick kiss. Sherlock bucked his hips and he groaned when John’s moistened fingers came in contact with the bared tip of his cock before they slipped downward and started fondling his balls. “John…” Sherlock choked out, head falling back as he began to beg, “Please, John… fuck me.”

“Can’t just yet. Be patient,” John sought out Sherlock’s mouth, catching his lips with his own before he drew him into a deep, passionate kiss. “You’ve got to come in my hand first… then I can fuck you like the needy slut you are.”

Sherlock mouthed the word ‘come’ before his eyes widened in understanding and he squirmed under John’s touch. John chuckled as he purred in Sherlock’s ear, “Figured it out, didn’t you?” Sherlock bucked into John’s fist as it wrapped around him and he choked on another moan, covering his mouth when he heard the door open. He bit at the side of his hand, clenching his eyes shut as he heard James politely greet whoever entered the restroom. Whoever it was didn’t stay long and soon there was the sound of the facet running and the distinct sound of an air dryer before the door swung shut again. Sherlock dropped his hand to sob at the painfully teasing slow pace John’s hand had adopted, teasing the tip with his thumb. He begged again and John shook his head, nipping at Sherlock’s lips before he smirked.

“Why are you a slut, Sherlock? Tell me.”

“Maybe it’s the way he likes to constantly begs for cock, John,” James offered from the other side of the door. Sherlock dropped his head, flushed, looking shameful and John smiled, tapping at Sherlock’s chin with the fingers of his free hand.

“That true, Sherlock? Do you like begging for cock?” Sherlock nodded, “Would any cock satisfy you?” John ventured, snarling a bit. “You could get anyone in this bar to bend you over and fuck you. Do you want that?”

Sherlock shook his head, his hips stuttering as he felt his orgasm start to build, drawing him closer to that edge just as John started to drag his fist up and down his length. “You’ll have to speak up, Sherlock. So James can hear you.”

“N… no,” Sherlock bucked into John’s hand again, his voice getting lost as his body slumped back, his come decorating John’s fingers and palm. His breath got caught in his chest and when he finally let it go, it came out in a loud moan as he slid backwards, his knees threatening to give way under his own weight.

“Oh no you don’t,” John caught Sherlock and spun him back around so his chest pressed against the stall door. “Hold onto the top there,” Sherlock did as asked, his fingers weakly gripping the top of the stall, curling over it and helping anchor him. “Good man,” John praised and Sherlock made an appreciative sound, almost like a soft coo, to which John chuckled in a deep throaty manner. He used his come slicked fingers to press into Sherlock, the other man tensing just slightly with a soft ‘ah’. John used his other hand to reach around, sliding it up Sherlock’s tight fitting shirt before finding his nipple and teasing it with his thumb. “You’re so gorgeous right after you’ve come, you know that, Sherlock?” Sherlock hissed as John pulled out his fingers, recognizing the soft clatter of a belt buckle being undone one handed. “Pliant… relaxed… drunk on your own body chemistry. Fucking gorgeous.”

John placed a wet kiss on the back of Sherlock’s neck. “Now… you were saying…that any dick won’t do?” Sherlock groaned as he struggled with his verbal capabilities, his mind wading through its post-orgasmic sluggishness combined with the feel of the tip of John’s cock pressing, teasing, against his hole. He protested with a soft murmur of John’s name and John shook his head. “No. You want this cock, you need to tell me why,” He pressed forward just slightly to punctuate his point in a way that made Sherlock nails press into the door.

“I’m your slut,” Sherlock insisted. “I only want your cock.”

“Your?”

“Yours… and James’. I only want to be fucked by you. You do this to me.”

“Do what?”

“Don’t make me say it…” John tsked as he started to pull away and Sherlock made a desperate plea, “No! No… please. I… fucking want your big… thick… cock… inside…” Sherlock growled in frustration, “See? See? This… this is what you do. You turn… turn me into some depraved… pleading…”

“Filthy whore?” John offered to which Sherlock nodded emphatically.

“Yes! Oh yes… now please, John. Please. I’ve been wanting this all day…”

“All day?” John raised an eyebrow before he pressed Sherlock further against the metal door that was quickly being warmed up by Sherlock’s body heat. “You sneaky little bitch. You did set us up, didn’t you?” Sherlock didn’t bother replying beyond curving his back a little more and shooting a look over his shoulder in invitation. John couldn’t help but smirk before he rolled the hem of Sherlock’s shirt, past his arm pits and stuffed it into the detective’s mouth. “You are in so much trouble, Sherlock,” John snarled into his ear. “You want to be fucked like the filthy slut you are?” Sherlock’s cry was muffled by the fabric with John’s first thrust forward. “I will fuck you so hard that everyone at the Yard will notice you limping and I will make sure James will do the same. It won’t take a mind like yours to figure out just how you like it. But that’s what you want, isn’t it? The great Sherlock Holmes… consulting detective… and personal whore for Captain John Watson and Major James Sholto. Is that right?”

Sherlock’s screamed ‘yes’ was only just audible through the cotton of his shirt, the sting of metal paint shavings lodging under his fingernails going unnoticed as John pounded into him, the come used as lubricant only easing the way so much. John was relentless, almost violent, and Sherlock’s loudly sung praises were quieted only by the bunched up hem of his shirt that was quickly getting soaked with saliva with each cry and moan. Sherlock’s eyes rolled back as John erratically changed his pace but never the force, each long thrust just as harsh as those that came rapidly. Sherlock felt his body begin to tremble from the unpredictability, clawing at the door as John suddenly pulled out as Sherlock struggled to stay upright. He made a loud screech of disapproval at the empty feeling that followed, his stretched out muscles trying to tighten back up. He moaned helplessly, trying to spread his legs, silently begging for John.

“No. No. I said I’d fuck you a like a slut. I don’t think you deserve my come inside you.”

Sherlock bowed his head and whimpered and sniffled and then gasped when John grabbed him by the back of his shirt before he called out to James. “What do you think, Major? Do you think a sneaky, lying whore… deserves what he wants?”

“I do not, Captain.”

Sherlock started to plead loudly from behind his makeshift gag, sobbing in desperation. John took pity and moved it out of the way, causing Sherlock to sputter and sniffle and attempt to bury his face in John’s palm as it swiped across his cheeks. “Shh…” John hushed, before he pressed his lips to the back of Sherlock’s ear. “You’re okay. You’ll hyperventilate if you don’t calm down, love,” Sherlock took a few deep breaths, inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth before John swiped his hair back from his face gently. “I’ll tell you what… you are so fucking sexy right now, I’m going to cover that arse of yours in come, but you do not deserve to get me to come inside you. You understand?”

Sherlock nodded in compliance before he spread his legs a little so he could balance his weight easier. He closed his eyes and listened to the slick slapping sound of John’s hand on his cock, pleasuring himself. He bit his lip, closed his eyes and spoke in a deep, rich tone.

“Je suis désolé, John”

John perked a bit as Sherlock’s velvet voice caressed the simple French phrase and made it glisten with sin. He gave a throaty chuckle as his hand sped up. “You are a fucking…” John’s breath hitched, “… brat.” He groaned as he came, Sherlock jerking slightly as the warm ribbons of ejaculate hit his backside, running down his thighs and pooling in the curve of his back. He purred when John’s fingers found his hair and bit his lip as he was peeled away from the door, fingers sore, paint beneath his fingernails, and limbs limp. John hit the door with his palm to warn James before he swung it open. James turned just in time to catch Sherlock’s body, the detective nuzzling his neck and pressing sloppy kisses to the skin.

“You’re turn,” John smirked as he made quick use of the sink to wipe himself up and pull up his pants, just as another patron ducked into the restroom, saw the three of them and quickly back up, saying he could hold it, but no one missed the sly smile that cracked onto his face.

Sherlock had the decency to bury his face into James’ shoulder while he blushed furiously, while John and James just chuckled. James held Sherlock close and kissed his temple. “Hazard of public sex, Sherlock, is getting caught.”

Sherlock only hummed in reluctance before he lifted his head and kissed James on the lips just as he was pushed back into the stall, door latching shut again. He found himself back in his original position, his face pressed against the door while he gripped onto the top of it. “Did you like what you heard, Major?” Sherlock asked as he wet his lips. James was always the more quiet of the two, but when Sherlock could get him to talk dirty, he always reveled in the opportunity. James’ only reply was an appreciative grunt before he pressed his denim clad erection between Sherlock’s arse cheeks, causing him to gasp and draw himself up onto his tip toes.

“What do you think, detective?” James shot back and Sherlock felt the shudder rattle from the tips of his fingers to his knees and then back. His breath quickened as he felt James pull away and he bit his lip in anticipation. “Though I don’t know why I should give you want you want – ridiculous man.”

“Maybe… because you like that I’m yours…” Sherlock offered, sucking in a breath when James pressed up against him again, bare skin this time, James’ long cock nestled between Sherlock’s cheeks. Sherlock seemed to melt to the touch and purred, “Oh James… please don’t tease me.”

“Oh… with that stunt you pulled? Teasing is exactly what I intend to do.”

“It was for a ca–ah–se,” Sherlock dropped his head as James dragged himself teasingly across Sherlock’s already thoroughly fucked hole.

“And it was also to make John and I immensely jealous. Or do you deny that?” James leaned in and breathed against Sherlock’s neck, “Remember, Sherlock. If you lie to me, I will know.”

“I don’t… I don’t deny it.”

“Then give me a reason why I should fuck you proper.”

Sherlock swallowed as James pressed the tip against his hole and sucked in another breath to steady his voice. “Because… I’m yours to fuck… sir.”

He choked when James thrust into him, the rough pace John had set earlier leaving him feeling a little raw. But he relished the dull pain, seeing stars as James’ cock reached deeper inside him. His voice was rough from his previous screaming and all he could manage now were short, strangled cries before those too were silenced by his shirt being stuffed back in his mouth.

Sherlock’s eyesight blurred and he shuddered again as James gripped his thigh with his good hand, plowing deep inside him. He squealed a smothered ‘no’ when James pulled out, fighting back the tears that threatened to slide down his cheeks and just as John had, James sought to comfort him. He pressed a reassuring kiss to Sherlock’s hair before whispering against it, “Shh… love. You would swallow up every drop of come we offered but not tonight,” James slid his lips to Sherlock’s ear to whisper against it, “But you have countless number of nights with us, Sherlock, to have our cocks however you wish. But tonight? You turn around for me.”

Sherlock shakily let go of the door and spun himself around to press himself back against the door and looked down at James jerking himself off. He felt his skin stick to the metal, the cotton damp in his mouth, and he kept himself upright by pressing his palms against the sides of the stall.

“Eyes on my face, Sherlock.” Sherlock obeyed, flicking his eyes upwards and meeting James’. He felt exposed – his jeans still around his knees, penis flaccid, shirt rolled up so high it left his nipples exposed to the chill of the restroom air. He fought the urge to look down again, blinking whenever he felt his eyes start to sink, before he tilted his chin up and breathed heavily through his nose. “You like this, don’t you? Being looked upon, worshiped?” Sherlock nodded, cheeks still pink and growing warmer. “Such a beautiful and brilliant man. Allowing John and I do such filthy and debauched things to you. Letting us fuck you in a bar loo and then jerk ourselves off to the sight of you until we come all over your skin. How did we get so lucky?” Sherlock carefully placed his hands on the rolled up hem of his Henley, hesitating before James gave him a nod. He pulled it down, out of his mouth and gasped on his own answer.

“Because… Major… I want you to.”

Sherlock closed his eyes, his stomach drawing tight as he felt James’ come hit his abdomen and slip down into the tightly woven curls collected at the base of his cock. He slipped down the door, reveling in James’ own satisfaction before James caught him with his good arm and brought him close.

“Come on. We need to get you cleaned up and back to the hotel.”

Sherlock nodded in agreement and hummed before his eyes snapped open and he gasped just as the stall door opened and he was shuffled out. “Oh! I nearly forgot! I found a flat!”

“That’s great, Sherlock,” John pressed a kiss to his lips as he helped James usher him over to the sink. “But let’s talk about that when we’re all a bit more coherent.”

“It’s a nice little place in Central London…” Sherlock began to ramble and both John and James exchanged polite smiles with one another as they helped wipe down Sherlock and get him looking somewhat presentable. He was still babbling as they left the restroom, though John and James had to walk on either side of him to make sure no one tried to intercept their path out the bar.

But just as they hit the door, Sherlock ducked out from beneath their arms, holding up his hand so he could check his phone. He did not anticipate a man he did not catch sight of gently bumping into him. As he lifted his head, a voice whispered across his ear.

“You’ll have to choose one or the other. You can’t be greedy.”

Sherlock felt cold rush of terror tear through him but the owner of the voice was lost within the crowd before he could identify him. He stood their frozen until John and James, warmth and comfort personified were back beside him.

“Hey. You okay?”

Sherlock snapped to and nodded, looking to both of them and smiling. “Yes. Of course,” he insisted, lying not just to them, but to himself as well.

Because he couldn’t bring himself to think that the soft, male voice in his ear belonged to someone who threatened him – not just him – but his two lovers – and he couldn’t let that voice take away the satisfaction he felt tonight – that he was loved and cared for by two wonderful men who kept up with his whims and surprised him with their own.

No, he was going to keep the memory of tonight unmarred for now. File it away properly.

And then he was going to deal with this nameless, faceless voice that dared to tell him what he couldn’t have.


End file.
